Mischief Managed
by Appello
Summary: Set post-Thor 1. Loki travels to Earth to confront the woman who has captured his brother's heart. But as with most things in the God of Mischief's life, things don't exactly go to plan. A simple case of mistaken identity, or the hands of fate conspiring against him? Loki isn't sure, but one thing he does know: he won't be forgetting the name of Darcy Lewis anytime soon.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: So I recently stumbled across Thor on television. I don't normally watch superhero movies and never paid the series much attention before, so imagine my surprise when I fell head-over-heels in love with the entire thing, and particularly the character of Loki. Good lord, why I am so behind the times in the awesomeness that is Loki? Eh, anyway, my life philosophy is better late than never so...

This is a short little four-chapter story that theoretically takes place between the ending of Thor 1 and the start of The Avengers. It exists purely because of plot bunnies (okay okay, it's actually PWP, I confess), a meandering muse and the fact that Darcy/Loki is so perfect I just couldn't let them slip past without comment :P I have absolutely no idea if anyone out there is still shipping this couple, or if this fandom died years ago and I'm just living in my own little bubble (wouldn't be the first time). But, well, on the off-chance anybody out there will enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it, I'm sharing with the world. Hi, world!

Quick Recap of the ending of Thor 1: Thor destroys the Bifrost, trapping himself in Asgard and Jane in Midgard. Loki falls into the abyss and through a wormhole and begins EvilSchemez™. Darcy rolls her eyes in Puente Antiguo.

Disclaimer: I own nothing and profit from even less.

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_'Now let it work. Mischief, thou art afoot. Take thou what course thou wilt.'_

_-_William Shakespeare

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Darcy Lewis was chopping carrots in her best friend's kitchen when the God of Mischief materialised in front of her.

She should probably have screamed. She almost did scream. But it had been a trying week, what with all the world-ending and the giant metal monster and god-falling-from-the-sky apocalypse stuff, and honestly she just couldn't muster the energy. For a good long moment she was preoccupied making sure she hadn't sliced her finger off - it would be just like her, for a god to appear and the first thing she needs is a ride to A&E - and by the time she'd confirmed all her precious digits were safe, the opportunity for a dramatic demonstration of feminine terror was kinda lost.

She knew it was Loki, even though she'd never actually met Thor's infamous little brother in the flesh. There had been a (surprisingly accurate, she saw now) picture of him in that book Dr Selvig fished from the library, and Thor had passed on a basic description to Jane, which was repeated back to Darcy during their emergency my-boyfriend-is-an-Asgardian-god girl's night shortly after Thor had flown the coop. Although, looking at him now, Darcy was inclined to think that Jane's effort that night - 'thin, dark, pale and evil-looking' - was doing Loki Odinson a considerable disservice.

Okay, sure, he did have the whole intimidation thing pretty nailed down, what with the leather and the massive glowing sceptre and the way he was staring at her like he wanted to devour her from the ground up. But he was also striking, in a Nordic Metal meets Vengeful God kinda way, and there was something about his mouth that put her instantly in mind of 'fantastic kisser.' Plus his eyes were pretty. Darcy swallowed thickly, alarmed at the direction of her thoughts.

"Well well," he spoke, and his voice was like velvet and honey and sexy times and - "You must be Jane Foster."

Wait, what? Darcy blinked. Her brain scrambled. Several things clicked out of and then back in to place.

_He thinks you're Jane. He thinks you're _Jane! _Say something, stupid!_

Darcy supposed it wasn't unreasonable. After all, she _was_ currently standing in Jane's kitchen, chopping vegetables, at - her eyes flicked to the clock on the wall - 8pm on a Tuesday night. It was a perfectly reasonable assumption that she should be Jane Foster. A very logical, rational deduction. She just hadn't expected the God of Lies to be the one making it.

She was startled from her thoughts by said god taking a step toward her. His movements were predatory, graceful and deadly. Darcy was struck by the image of a jaguar stalking its prey, then had to stifle a hysterical giggle at the idea of herself as quivering bunny rabbit.

God, what was wrong with her?

Loki stilled, his head tilting as he took in her odd reaction. Darcy tried to make her facial muscles contort into something less insane.

"Are you in pain?" he queried politely.

Promptly, she stopped doing whatever it was her face was attempting. "Er, no."

"You do not seem afraid," he commented, taking another step towards her.

Darcy wasn't sure what to say to that. She knew she _should _feel afraid: she was alone with one of the most dangerous beings in the universe, and neither her friend, nor, more usefully, her 'super-strong-with-a-saviour-complex 'guy friend' were anywhere nearby to come to her aid.

But _was _she afraid? Darcy studied her reaction, and decided that no, she wasn't.

Whatever, it had been a long week.

"Should I be?"

His eyebrows rose at her question, or perhaps the croak in her voice. She sounded like a pack-a-day Vader enthusiast. Not her greatest moment.

"Do you know who I am?" he asked.

Darcy perked up at this, simply because it was a question she felt she could finally answer with confidence. "Sure do! You're Loki. The big bad."

His lips parted - she wasn't staring at his mouth, pinky swear - as if her answer had been unexpected. "The _big_ _bad_?" he repeated, a trace of amusement to his tone that made Darcy's skin prickle. "Is this the title Midgard has given me?"

"Earth? Pfft, no," she snorted, and Loki's eyes grew wide. "I came up with it myself. After the whole clanking metal robot of doom thing." She folded her arms smugly. "I gotta say I'm pretty proud of it."

There was a long pause. Loki was staring at her like she was an april fool's prank he hadn't quite figured out. Eventually, he gave a small shake of his head. "You are not what I expected, Jane Foster."

Crap. She'd forgotten that minor detail. Darcy opened her mouth, but suddenly Loki was standing a hand's span from her, and the only thing that came out of her was a startled squeak. He was so close she could see deep into his eyes, at the specks of blue hidden amongst the pale green. Not that that was important. _Supervillain, Darcy, concentrate!_

"So, are you, um, just popping in for a visit?" she asked, in a chirpy voice that made Loki freeze, an inch away from her face. "Catching up with the Midgardian side of the family? Thanksgiving still a thing up there in the, um, sky? I guess you know that Thor isn't - "

At the mention of his brother, Loki's face contorted, and he made a fierce noise in the back of his throat that would have had Darcy jumping backwards, had she not already been pressed against the countertop. Wait, how had that happened? She could have sworn she was on the other side of it five seconds ago.

"No? Okay then. Um, wine?" she seized the bottle from the counter and held it to Loki's face. He drew back just slightly, eyes narrowing as he read the label. "It's nothing fancy," she felt obliged to add, not wanting to get his hopes up. "Intern salary, ya know. Still, better than nothing, right?" She waited for him to reply, but he went back to studying her face, his gaze more contemplative than angry.

"No, thank you."

"Oh. Okay." This had to be the weirdest conversation she had had in… oh, about a week or so. Darcy placed the bottle back down without taking her eyes from Loki. She was strangely transfixed by the play of emotions she could read on his face.

"So tell me," he began, close enough that his breath ghosted her skin as he spoke. He smelt of peppermint and cloves and winter mornings. Not very supervillainy, if you asked her. It was Darcy's considered opinion that, if someone was going to go evil and still stay super hot, they should at least have the decency to develop bad breath or something. It only seemed fair. "Do you pine for him? My brother, who has abandoned you here without a thought? Who has left you to rot on this godforsaken rock while he flaunts his authority and revels in the decadence of Asgard?"

God, she really had to set him straight. "No, well, you see - "

"I could not believe it when I heard," he cut her off, and all at once there was a greater distance between them, as Loki span and paced to the other side of the kitchen. Darcy absolutely was not disappointed that he had moved away from her. "My _brother_" - he spat the word like a curse, whirling back around to face her - "the great philanderer, the chosen one, beloved by all, throwing away his birthrightfor some pathetic Midgardian mortal. What could have given rise to such a lapse in sanity?"

Darcy was gaping at him. Words floated through her head like large flapping bats, until she finally fixed on one. "Philanderer?" she echoed, offence on Jane's behalf stiffening her spine. God of thunder or not, she was gonna tase Thor's ass if he'd been pillaging the villagers.

A crooked smile curled around Loki's mouth. It was outrageously - _don't think sexy, don't think sexy -_ um, hot? _Dammit, Darcy! _"Oh, didn't my _brother _tell you - " again with the scorn. Dude needed to tone it down, or he'd give himself an ulcer - "how he plunders his way through Asgard's court as if the life of Odin Allfather depended on it? How he beds a different woman each night just to brag of his conquests in the morning? How he fucks anything in a skirt that even - "

Darcy couldn't help it. She giggled.

Loki pulled up as if she had slapped him. His mouth opened, then closed again with a snap, and a dangerous look ignited in his eyes. It probably should have sirened a warning to Darcy, but she was too busy losing the plot to notice it.

"I'm sorry," she said, feeling the need to apologise because Loki looked almost scandalised, and she knew she must be doing something wrong if she was embarrassing the _God of_ _Mischief_ himself. "It's just - you said fucked."

His eyes squinted in an adorably bewildered display of confusion. "Is that not the word you Midgardians use to - "

"Yes, I mean, it is," she hastened to explain. "It's just, you're - you know - " she made a sweeping gesture, indicating the leather ensemble and the glowing staff - "You."

"Me?" repeated Loki blankly.

Darcy nodded sagely. "Yeah. Big bad, remember? I mean, you're a _God, _for god's sake! And you're standing in the kitchen talking about fucking and bedding and - "

All at once, he was back in her personal space. She jumped, then narrowed her eyes. "You have _got_ to stop doing that!"

"You think Gods don't _fuck, _mortal?" he asked, enunciating the word so heavily that Darcy felt a shiver run all the way down her spine and settle somewhere entirely inappropriate. "You think they don't lust, or desire, or crave?" he brought his mouth so close his lips were practically brushing her jawline. "You think they don't want what is most forbidden?"

She swallowed. Her tongue seemed to have glued itself to the roof of her mouth. With an effort, she unstuck it. "W-well no, of course not. I just - "

"You do not seem overly concerned by Thor's betrayal," he whispered. His mouth travelled up her cheek, just barely touching skin, and she sucked in an involuntary breath. From the spark that flashed in Loki's eyes, she knew he'd caught on to the way her body was reacting to his presence. _Goddamn stupid sexy supervillain. _"Is it that you are not surprised? That perhaps you know, deep down, he could never stay true to you?" His lips brushed her ear, and Darcy's legs damn near buckled.

"N-no, it's not that," she said, mortifyingly breathless. Her neck tilted of its own accord, and Loki's head dipped, his lips tracing a line to the hollow of her throat. When his teeth grazed the sensitive skin of her bare shoulder, she couldn't help but gasp and arch into his chest.

Loki jerked as if she had electrocuted him. He drew back slightly (Darcy barely managed to suppress whimper at the loss of his touch, pathetic being she was) and stared at her like she was a riddle he'd never encountered before. His gaze roved over her face, eyes widening at whatever he found there.

"You desire me," he said in a low voice. It wasn't a question, and besides, she could hardly deny it, not after the way she had just reacted. Her chest was heaving, she knew her cheeks must be flushed (she really shouldn't have had that third glass of wine) and she had all but thrown herself at him three seconds ago. There seemed little point in lying, especially to the God of Lies himself.

So, she just shrugged and answered, "Yes."

His gaze sparked. Darcy could feel it burning against her skin. A triumphant grin spread across his face and he suddenly looked every inch the trickster god everyone warned about. "Now this _is _interesting," he said, bringing a finger to run along her cheek. She shivered against his touch, and his grin stretched. "Are all mortals so fickle? Or is it that my brother is not the eternally desired hero he believes himself to be?" There was genuine curiosity in his voice, and beneath that, an edge of something deeper; disbelief, Darcy realised, her brain fogging as he drew closer, his eyes fixed hungrily on her lips. _He can't believe I actually want him._

And so, because it had been a long week and she was Darcy Lewis standing in her best friend's house with the supremely attractive God of Mischief eyeing her like she was a morsel he wanted to devour and it had been _way too fucking long _since anyone had looked at her like that (if, um, ever) and her hormones were spotfiring every time he touched her and her brain was screaming _fuck it, let's do this…_

Yeah, because of all that, she kissed him.

Okay, so it wasn't her brightest moment. Hello, infinitely powerful probably-immortal dude who could snap her like a twig! But Loki didn't react with the anger she'd anticipated. She expected him to push her away, or maybe laugh in her face, since he was surely only playing with her, teasing her to see how desperate he could make her before withdrawing in mocking disgust. But when she closed the miniscule gap that still existed between them, his response was astonishingly eager. His hands lifted to cradle her neck and his lips moved emphatically over hers, and his tongue -

_Oh, Christ. _Darcy realised she was on her back and there was a mattress beneath her and _fuck - _she gasped as Loki broke the kiss to loom over her with a grin that was almost feral.

"Well now," he breathed, running his hands down the curves of her body. Darcy watched as her shirt disappeared at his touch as though it were dissolving into thin air. "Let's see what all the fuss is about, shall we?"

And then his lips were everywhere and his hands, and Darcy's mind slipped away, the final thought in her head before it was lost to the image of Loki's face hanging above her like an imprint in the darkness.

_Wasn't she supposed to be telling him something?_

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A/N: If anyone's reading this, please consider leaving me a quick review! I'd love to know if there's still interest in this pairing out there in the multiverse, and whether you enjoyed my interpretation.

Back with the next chapter soon :)


	2. Chapter 2

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As with everything in Loki's life these days, the situation he found himself in had gotten so far beyond his original intention, he was almost at a loss to explain how he'd ended up there.

Though he was on earth for an entirely different purpose, he'd been unable to resist the temptation of meeting Jane Foster. He wanted to see for himself, to confront the woman that had stolen his brother's heart so thoroughly that Thor would give up everything he'd ever dreamed of just to be with her. Call it curiosity, brotherly duty to inspect his potential future sister-in-law, or just the God of Mischief living up to his name. Whatever the reason, it was only ever meant to be a pit stop on the way to greater things.

Loki had had it all planned out. It was to be a brief visit. He'd appear before the stupid girl, frighten her a little with the help of some of his more interesting deceptions, plant a seed of doubt in her head regarding his brother's proclivities and faithfulness, then leave. A harmless bit of mischief.

What he _hadn't_ intended was to end up with a moaning, writhing mortal woman beneath him, her body responding like liquid fire to his touch and her every movement sending sparks of shockingly intoxicating pleasure coursing through his veins. No, scratch that. Not just any mortal. _Thor's _woman. His _brother's_ woman.

_Fuck, what are you doing Loki? _

He fought to ignore the voice in his head, even as he dragged his hands down the girl's form, relishing the softness he found at every turn. At first, he had been stunned at how readily she responded to his advances. The foolish mortal appeared to have little fear, and even less hesitation to his touch, despite claiming to know who he was.

Then, once the initial shock of her response had worn off, it had become a question of seeing how far the God of Mischief could push his luck.

Honestly, Loki hadn't thought it would be very far. He knew Thor must have warned Jane about him, and that if she was half the woman his brother claimed her to be she would see through what he was doing in an instant. Truthfully, he expected nothing more than a hard slap for his troubles, perhaps a threat to tell his brother thrown in for added measure. At the very least a swift kick to the family jewels.

But the stupid woman hadn't reacted that way at all. Instead, she arched into him, making it quite clear she had no aversion to his touch. She'd looked at him with big blue fuck-me eyes and a heaving chest, and suddenly all of Loki's carefully made schemes crumbled into ashes at his feet.

That seemed to be the way of things these days.

So, a new plan. Once he'd established her lack of inhibitions, it was easy enough to seduce her. And how could he deny such an opening? An opportunity like this presented whole new possibilities for mischief that he hadn't previously contemplated. Loki had come to Midgard hoping to plant a seed of chaos in Thor's otherwise perfect life. Instead, Jane Foster offered him his brother's heart on a platter, then gave him the knife with which to carve it open.

All this from the woman Thor had been willing to give up his throne for? Truly, if this was love, it was a sentiment utterly beyond Loki's comprehension. He'd be doing his brother a favour by exposing it for the sham it clearly was.

So, why was he hesitating? Loki growled low in his throat, his lips skimming over the girl's collarbone while his hands trailed over her hips towards the apex of her thighs. She rewarded his touch with a sinful moan that shot straight to his groin, and it was all he could do not to take her between one heartbeat and the next. He knew she was ready for him - he was practically drunk off the scent of her arousal. So _why _was he hesitating?

He knew why. It was his curse, his burden; hated relic of his despised and misguided upbringing, and yet unshakeable, somehow, even after everything. His _weakness_.

_Your own brother, Loki. _

_He's _not _my brother. _

_He loves her. _

_He is a fool to call this love._

_This will break him. _

_Then he deserves to be broken. _

_He's your _brother_, Loki. _

Growling, he threw himself sideways, almost launching off the bed in his desperate haste to put some distance between them. He lay on his back, panting, staring sightlessly at the ceiling, throbbing with unsatisfied need. Fuck, he hadn't bargained for this.

The girl lay still for a moment, the last of the tremors coursing through her body, before she pushed herself up on one elbow. Loki could feel her studying him, could taste her bewilderment and confusion on his tongue. Disgust with himself churned in the pit of his stomach - hardly a new feeling, but even he could admit this was a different flavour than he was accustomed to.

_You're a fool if you don't take what she is offering. _

Gritting his teeth so hard he thought he heard one of them crack, he ground out, "Tell me, why would my brother waste his love on a woman so patently unworthy of it?"

He heard her shocked intake of breath. Then, quite unexpectedly, she laughed. "Oh shit."

He rolled over to face her and was treated to a delicious frontal view of her lace-covered breasts. Maybe Thor hadn't cared so much about the fidelity part with a body like hers? At this moment Loki couldn't really blame him.

She was still smiling, a little manically. The mad gleam in her eyes sparked something inside him, and he felt himself growing, if possible, even harder. But he still didn't reach out to claim her. Allfather damn him, he was a thrice-cursed fool.

"You do not know what you are doing," he bit out, overriding every single natural instinct he possessed. "So I suggest, silly mortal, that you get up and forget any of this ever - "

He broke off, listening. The front door opened and slammed, followed by the distinct sound of booted footsteps echoing upstairs.

Instantly, he was on his feet. His clothes materialised and he gripped the sceptre in his hand, baring his teeth at the half-naked girl on the bed, who looked suddenly terrified. _It's a trap, _his mind screamed like a clamouring bell; he tasted bitterness in the back of his throat. _The whole thing is a trap. Move!_

He was halfway through disappearing when he smelt it. The presence of another female, distinctly ordinary, undeniably human. He paused, maintaining corporeality just long enough to hear a voice call out from downstairs, "Darcy? Darcy are you up there? Hellooo?"

He froze, reappearing at the foot of the bed and startling the girl so much she jumped, letting go of the sheet she had been trying to cover herself with.

His voice was low and deadly, his gaze burning with all the frost of Jotunheim. "_Darcy?"_

The girl turned crimson. He saw her throat bob as she swallowed, but speech seemed beyond her at that moment. Narrowing his eyes, Loki vanished and re-emerged in the downstairs hallway, where a slender woman was unwrapping a scarf from her neck, features drawn in weary exasperation.

He spoke inches from her right shoulder. "You are Jane Foster?"

She screamed, loud enough to make him wince, and threw herself against the wall. Her hands clawed at her throat and she gaped at him like a strangled fish, her lips moving in an absurd pantomime of speech.

"Y-y-y-" she seemed incapable of words, but her eyes flashed with recognition. She knew him. Or of him, at the very least. Loki sneered.

"Answer me, woman, or I shall make you rue the day you laid eyes on my fool of a brother."

At the mention of Thor, her demeanour changed abruptly. She lurched upright, paling like she'd seen a ghost, and a feverish light came into her eyes that made him want to take a step back. "Th-thor?" she gasped, swivelling around and glancing at the ceiling as if his brother might be hanging there like some overgrown fruit bat. "Thor is here? Where is he? _Please tell me!"_

Loki's eyes narrowed at her suddenly imperious tone. He raised his sceptre, letting the glow of it transfix her for a moment, then said very softly, "I will not ask again, mortal. Are you Jane Foster?"

She nodded without a moment's hesitation. "Yes, I am. Is Thor - "

He was gone before she could finish the plea. Upstairs, he found the girl - _Darcy - _staring stupidly into space, as if unable to come to terms with what had just happened. Without speaking, he seized her in a deliberately ungentle grip and transported them both somewhere they would not be disturbed.

The girl - the girl that was not Jane Foster _\- _staggered when he let her go, and fell onto the bed he had conveniently conjured in the centre of the room. She trembled, but this time it was not lust that made her thighs shake. Loki could smell the fear on her like a taint.

He glared down at her, and she blinked back with an eery calmness. "Are you going to kill me?"

"That depends," he replied. "Who are you?"

"Darcy."

"Darcy who?"

She frowned. "Just Darcy."

He gave her a look that would have made a Frost Giant tremble. "Nobody in this realm is _just _one thing. I require an elaboration."

She gaped at him, apparently taken aback by his persistence. "You really care what my last name is?"

He didn't smile. "I care about knowing who it is I'm involved with, _Darcy._" He watched the colour return to her cheeks, realising with something dangerously close to smugness that she enjoyed the way he said her name. "I do not make it my habit to bed strangers."

"You were going to bed Jane!"

He swatted away this comment like an irksome fly. "I was not. But that isn't important right now. Answer me."

Her face flushed with annoyance, and she sat up straight, crossing her arms over her chest. "Fine. You want to know all about me? Sure, okay. My name's Darcy Lewis, I'm a pol sci major with a crummy intern job that pays less than awful, my life's a hot mess, I'm hanging out at my best friend's house while she mopes for your brother who fell out of the _fucking _sky, along with a giant robot that demolished half the town just cause it felt like it. In my spare time I get to watch stories about Norse mythology come true and oh, tonight I nearly banged the God of Mischief, in between him probably plotting to enslave the earth and blow up the universe or something!"

She finished her little rant, panting and furious. Loki studied her in fascination. She was intensely alluring when fired up; he experienced a quite irrational desire to keep arguing with her, just to maintain the spectacle. "Who said anything about nearly?" he replied softly, then, before she could properly process his words, "Why did you lie to me?"

A spark of defiance flashed in her eyes. "I didn't," she said, then bit her lip, as if reconsidering. "I just… never got around to correcting you."

Loki thought about this. He ran through every word of their conversation, and couldn't help his lips from curling into a smirk. He was almost impressed. There were few people among the Nine Realms who could trick the God of Trickery himself. He stared with fresh eyes at this _Darcy. _The still very shirtless Darcy.

"I see."

She peeked at him from underneath her lashes. "You do?"

"Oh yes." He sat himself down on the edge of the bed, and she stiffened. A pity, she had been so pliable before, practically putty in his hands. "You tried to deceive the God of Lies himself. You are either very brave or incredibly foolish."

"It wasn't my fault!" she whined, sitting up on her knees. "I kept _trying_ to tell you, but you were so busy with the interrupting and the threatening and the grrr!" she made a sound that could only be described as an angry lion cub. "And then you were kissing me and I forgot what I was supposed to say and oh god, Jane is going to _kill _me!" She raked her hands through her hair, giving him another delightful view of her breasts. She seemed to have forgotten she wasn't wearing her shirt. Loki had no plans to remind her anytime soon.

"_Jane_ will kill you?"

"Yes!" She looked up at him abruptly, her gaze fierce. "She'll think I did it on purpose, pretending to be her, and then she'll freak out that Thor will get mad and - and _you_!" she pointed a finger at his face, and he raised an eyebrow, unsure whether to be amused or angered by her blatant disrespect. "You absolutely cannot tell Thor about any of this! I refuse to be held responsible for your brother getting all jealous and mad and sending lightning bolts of doom to fry us over a simple misunderstanding."

She was nearly panting in her fervour. Loki felt his erection pressing uncomfortably against his clothing, but resisted the urge to render himself naked once again. He didn't want to startle her. "So you _didn't _do it on purpose?" he asked, surprised to find himself genuinely curious as to her answer. Usually he could read the truth of these things on people's faces, or by dipping into their minds. But she was such a chaotic jumble of emotions he was having trouble making sense of her.

The glare she shot him was poisonous. "No! Okay, maybe it crossed my mind for like _one _second, but no! I can't help it if you're all sexy and distracting and - " she seemed to come to a sudden awareness, looking down at herself - "Oh my god I'm naked."

Loki stifled a pang of disappointment. "Indeed. Would you like your shirt back?"

"I - " she stared at him, and beneath the apprehension, he caught a spark of something else that made him want to crow. "Well I suppose I should, but…"

"But?" he prompted, running his tongue along his upper lip and watching her eyes flit to his mouth.

"But I… it's just… we were managing pretty well without… clothes... before. Don't you think?" She peeked at him, her cheeks turning a delightful shade of pink. Loki hid the gloating smirk that wanted to break out on his face. A small voice in the back of his head whispered that this wasn't what he came to Midgard for. He had business to attend to, and while toying with his brother's lover had been an appealing diversion, it was very much secondary to his broader ambition; bedding a random mortal, who wasn't even _connected_ to Thor and wouldn't impact him in the slightest, was nowhere near his list of priorities. He didn't have the time to waste on this.

With remarkable ease, Loki silenced the voice. After all, it wasn't every day a beautiful woman took their clothes off - and _kept _them off - around him, and while Loki could be accused of many things, squandering opportunities was not one of them. A God he may be, capable of feats of power and magic the likes of which the citizens of Midgard had never seen, but he still had a pulse.

"Indeed," he whispered, leaning closer, trapping her between his arms and vanishing his clothes between one blink of the eye and next. Darcy gasped, and he saw her eyes dart lower. When she met his gaze again, he quirked a brow. "Shall we continue?"

"Yes," she replied breathlessly. With an effort, Loki smothered the groan that wanted to slip out at her words. She was so open in her desire, so willing, he almost didn't know what to make of it. The cynical side of him told him it must be a trick, or a trap, or some kind of manipulation, but he couldn't bring himself to believe that fully. He saw no artifice in her gaze. And of all the beings in the Nine Realms, he should be the one to recognise it.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: So Avengers Endgame was... interesting.

Also, content warning for Mature themes ;)

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Darcy didn't know what she had expected of her evening, but she was pretty sure being ravished by an Asgardian god hadn't been high on the list of probable outcomes when she'd offered to come round after work and help Jane cook dinner.

Still, sometimes life handed you lemonade, right? And you just had to go ahead and skull that glass as quickly as possible before it all, um, evaporated… Or something.

Whatever absurd sequence of events had led her here, Darcy couldn't bring herself to regret what was currently happening. How could she, when she was spread-eagled in bed, naked, at the mercy of a dark-haired god currently doing deliciously sinful things between her thighs that were making stars appear and her tongue curl around itself in her mouth until the only coherent thing she could seem to get out was some combination of the words '_oh', 'fuck',' _and '_Loki!' _several times a minute.

For his part, the god of mischief seemed outrageously pleased with himself. Darcy had caught him smirking like a cat that had swallowed the whole vat of cream several times, and knew he was enjoying himself immensely. And, well, why shouldn't he? She was eager and willing and he obviously had a lot of steam to blow off with the whole angsty-younger-brother routine he'd been carrying around for so long.

"Oh _fuck,_" she temporarily lost her train of thought as Loki's tongue engaged in a particularly incredible manoeuver that made her feel like her body was attached to a string that started somewhere around his tonsils. Her toes curled and her eyelids fluttered shut in anticipation of the wave of ecstasy that was about to roll through her, when she suddenly felt him lift his head.

Her eyes snapped open, meeting Loki's gaze head on. Propped between her thighs, with a wolfish grin on his face and his eyes shining with heat and decadence, he looked like the poster child for sinfulness. When he licked his lips, Darcy practically swooned.

"Say my name," he commanded, in his I'm-a-god-do-as-I-tell-you voice. Which was just as well, because Darcy was well past the point of arguing with him about anything right then.

"Loki," she answered immediately, her voice breathless and wanton.

His fingers teased her, and his gaze fixed greedily on her face. "Again."

"_Loki,_" she whimpered, trembling as his thumb circled her clit and his fingers curled inside her. "Loki oh god, Loki, _LOKI!"_

His smile stretched, as if he had been only waiting for her to raise the decibel level, before he ducked his head again. His tongue circled once, twice, his fingers did something incredible, and then she was coming apart, her whole body shaking, her cries filling the room as reality crashed and reformed around her. And holy fuckballs, if this was what Asgardians were putting down on a regular basis she could understand why Jane had been pining so hard for her god of thunder.

It took a while for things to stabilise. When they did, Darcy found herself on her back, Loki propped effortlessly above her, his eyes roaming her face with a hungry, devouring look that made her legs feel even more like jelly than they already were.

She was surprised when he spoke, and even more surprised at the sincerity in his tone. "You look very beautiful when you come, Darcy Lewis."

His words took her breath away. They felt significant, and oddly out-of-place in what amounted to a clandestine tryst that would surely never be spoken of again once the sun had risen. Still, Darcy had never been one to overthink the moment (if she was, she probably wouldn't have ended up here, having mind-blowing sex with an alien demi-god). So, she simply replied with the first thing that popped into her head, as usual.

"I bet you do too."

As close as they were, she could see Loki's pupils dilate at her words. His lips parted, and a noise came from the back of his throat that sounded suspiciously close to a purr. He slid one hand down the curve of her body, and drew her close enough to whisper in her ear.

"Shall we find out?"

Unable to locate her tongue, Darcy could only nod an emphatic agreement. In seconds he had angled himself between her thighs, his hand lifting her by the small of her back until she was nestled against his chest. Darcy wasn't quite sure of the gravitational practicalities of the position she was currently in - it felt as though only the tips of her toes were touching the mattress - but Loki appeared to have no difficulty supporting her weight. Just another one of those handy god benefits, she presumed.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the hard length of him pressing against her entrance. A spark of amazement shot through Darcy from her head to her toes, and before she could think better of it she had cried out, "Wait!"

Loki froze. Tension rippled through him, and she saw his jaw clench. In silence, he stared at her, still poised to enter with a single shift of his hips. Darcy took a brief moment to marvel at how motionless he held himself, like a statue carved from marble.

"S-sorry," she gasped, somewhat thrown by the look in his eyes. It was as if he expected her to disappear in his arms, or wriggle free and declare the entire thing a practical joke. _Why so distrustful, _she wanted to ask, but knew it wasn't the moment. "Sorry," she said again, and this time Loki scowled.

"Is there anything in particular you are apologising for, or are you simply articulating that word for no specific reason?" his voice was hard as flint.

She flushed. "I'm sorry I stopped you," she said, and saw his eyebrows lift a fraction "I just wanted to confirm something before I lost the ability to form words."

He stared at her warily. "Confirm what?"

Despite the situation, Darcy felt a smirk creeping over her features. He wasn't the only one, after all, who felt like they had scored the cream. "I just wanted to check that I really am about to bang the God of Mischief, Loki, Prince of Asgard, six ways to Sunday. For, you know, the benefits of posterity and all that."

Loki's jaw dropped. It was only for a second, but still, she saw it. She had literally rendered a god speechless. Ha, and her mother kept telling her she was wasting her life.

He recovered quickly enough. The spark in his eyes warned her she might pay for that particular trick at a later date, but Darcy was too keyed up to worry. Besides, she didn't exactly have much time to process, because with a smirk that would have made the devil himself proud, Loki suddenly thrust into her, and all at once any attempt at rational conversation seemed rather futile.

"_Shit,_" she moaned at the sensation of him filling her, stretching her, awakening nerve endings she didn't even realise she had. His arms were strong and steady around her, and she arched into them, trusting implicitly in a way that might have surprised her had she been conscious of it. As it was, all she could focus on was the pleasure coiling in her lower belly and radiating outward to the rest of her body, electric and breathtaking.

Loki's pace was languid, his touch savouring rather than consuming, but somehow even more intoxicating than if he'd thrust into her with the reckless abandon she expected. Darcy wondered if he was doing it on purpose. If so, it was totally working.

Lifting her arms, she dug her fingernails into the skin of his upper arms, and heard him hiss, his hips bucking in response and losing some of their careful rhythm. Meeting his gaze, she smirked, and saw his green eyes flash.

"Vixen," he muttered, and shifted slightly to change the angle, causing her to lose sight of him as her eyes rolled back in her head.

"Oh god L - Lo - " she almost laughed at her own incoherence. Her toes were starting to curl, and she knew she was close to coming apart again. "L-Loki - "

Abruptly, he swung her upwards, arms holding her steady as their chests collided, her sensitive nipples pressing against his chest and making her moan. The new angle brought their faces close together, and she couldn't resist the temptation to kiss him. He responded eagerly, his tongue thrusting into her mouth, an echo of what he was doing to her elsewhere. She whimpered, almost overcome with the sensation of him, his scent filling her nostrils, skin igniting hers in a thousand different places, and the thick, hard length of him inside her, moving at the perfect angle, again and again, so agonisingly sweet that she wondered if she might be losing her mind.

He broke the kiss and pulled back to study her face, eyes wide as he drank in the sight of her. The corner of his mouth tipped upwards and he spoke against her lips, his voice like deep, rich velvet that went straight to her core, never stopping his exquisite rhythm. "Come for me, Darcy."

And she did, obedient mortal slave that she was. She cried out and would have thrown her head back, except he was suddenly holding the nape of her neck, his hand curled in her hair, preventing her from breaking eye contact.

"Look at me," he growled, his gaze fixed on her, and she obeyed, even as her muscles trembled and shook, the intensity of his stare mingling with that of her climax until it almost overpowered her. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over her, and she watched him watching her, his eyes devouring the sight of her flushed, lust-filled face with an almost ravenous hunger. When it was over she gave a shuddering gasp and tipped forward to rest her head in the crook of his neck, her eyelids fluttering shut and her body as limp as a noodle, twitching with the aftershocks of pleasure in his arms.

Dimly, she felt one of his hands run over her hair, long fingers threading almost reverently through the strands. It was a surprisingly intimate gesture, and Darcy let herself preen under the soft touch. She didn't know how long they stayed like that, his arms around her as her body sank into the intoxicating warmth of his chest. Only that when she eventually blinked back into consciousness, it was to the awareness that he was still inside her, and that, while her limbs were as soft and pliant as jelly, his were pulsing with enough restrained tension to break a small skyscraper.

Somewhat guiltily, she drew back to look at him. His eyes were dark, almost black, but there was a smile playing at the corners of his mouth which made her feel at ease. "Oops," she chuckled. "It was supposed to be your turn, wasn't it?" She shifted her position and clenched around him, watching a muscle tic in his jaw as he inhaled sharply.

"Indeed." The hand in her hair uncurled, tracing the arch of her spine before cupping her behind and dragging her deeper onto him. She moaned instinctively and he smirked. Without warning he flipped them both, so that she was on the mattress, and the backs of her knees were on his shoulders. Darcy gave a silent thanks to all the yoga classes Jane had dragged her to for her newfound flexible hamstrings. Loki seemed to approve as well; he groaned low in his throat at the new angle, his gaze unfocusing as he picked up the rhythm again, harder and faster than before, his movements tinged with urgency as the careful control he'd cultivated slipped away. Darcy watched him, enthralled by the pleasure on his features and the way it made him look years younger, until the sensations grew too much for her and she closed her eyes, giving herself to the moment, to the hard strength of his body as it sank into her again and again, the relentless force of him consuming her, devouring her, claiming her with such ferocity that she felt the overpowering pleasure rising within her once more, an unstoppable tide lapping at the edges of her Loki-drenched mind.

Loki growled something against her, and then his teeth dug into her shoulder, and the sharp almost-pain sent her spiralling over the edge at the same time he did. Darcy heard him gasp her name, before his hips gave a final thrust and he groaned into her neck, pulling her tight against him, lost in his own climax. Their bodies trembled and shook together, and she felt his breath fan over her collarbone, his grip around her waist so tight it was bordering on painful.

"Can't… breathe," she whispered hoarsely, and he relaxed his arms, but didn't release her entirely. For a long, languorous minute they lay, still and sated, in each other's arms, before Loki shifted with a sigh and slid out of her, rolling over to lie on his back, one arm flung out sideways across the bed, the other still tucked around her.

Figuring now was as good a time as any to push her luck, Darcy curled into his side, her head pillowing on his shoulder and her own hand snaking out to rest lightly on his chest. She expected him to protest, but he made no comment at the affectionate gesture. Stealing a glance up at him, Darcy saw that his eyes were closed, a smug, self-satisfied expression tugging at the corners of his mouth. Well, she could hardly blame him.

The silence stretched. Darcy felt the irresistible lure of post-coital bliss drawing her downwards into sleep; but something in her resisted, warning her not to waste this moment. After all, she wasn't stupid. She knew the chances of him still being there when she woke were slim to none.

"So," she murmured, her voice a little hoarse from all the good times. Idly, she ran a finger down Loki's chest, circling his nipple and watching in delight as his breathing hitched. When she peeked at his face again, it was to find his eyes open and watching her hungrily.

His eyebrow quirked when she just stared at him, transfixed by the play of light on his face, the way it softened the sharper angles of his features and made him almost… beautiful. _Careful. _

"So I've thought up a new title for you," she went on, clinging to the lightness in her tone for dear life, because the way he was looking at her was very close to making her come undone. "God of Mischief, Lies, and Mind-Blowing Orgasms."

He snorted softly. "I suppose it is an improvement over _big bad_." His hand lifted to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, and this time it was her breathing that hitched. "But I'm unsure what you are hoping to achieve with your flattery."

"Obviously, I'm buttering you up for a repeat performance."

She regretted the words as soon as she spoke them. The easy smile fled from Loki's face, and his hand dropped away. His gaze turned distant, and she could practically feel him pulling away. "It is not possible," he said.

_Okay, ouch. _"Right," she said, trying not to let the hurt his words invoked show on her face. "Sure, okay. I didn't mean - "

All at once, he was dragging her closer, kissing the words from her mouth. Stunned, Darcy stiffened for a moment before giving in, softening into the hard planes of his body, surrendering to his touch and pushing aside the bittersweet feeling that unfurled in her chest at the farewell she tasted on his lips.

When they broke apart, his gaze was shadowed, but no longer abstracted. He ran a finger down the side of her face and shook his head. "Silly mortal," he said, and though the words were harsh, the tender affection in his tone took her breath away. "I did not mean for this to happen."

"Yeah, me either bud," she said, attempting a smile. "I was kinda in the middle of cooking dinner, in case you hadn't noticed." Her gaze flit around the room, suddenly realising she had no idea where they were. "Where did you take us anyway?"

"Somewhere safe." Abruptly, his expression darkened, and his arms tightened around her. "Safe," he repeated, frowning in thought.

She cocked her head at his strange behaviour. "Er, what - "

He stared at her, the intensity of his gaze cutting her off mid-question. "Don't go anywhere near New York."

"New York?" she echoed blankly. "Why?"

"It does not matter why. Just promise me you will stay far from that city."

Darcy propped herself up on an elbow, staring at him. Her natural inclination was to crack a joke to alleviate the tension - something something, regular shopping trip to the big apple - but the expression on Loki's face held her tongue. His brows were furrowed and he looked genuinely anguished, as though the weight of the world hung on her complying with his command. Darcy experienced a startling awareness that the man before her wasn't a _man _at all, but something else entirely, something alien and unknowable and infinitely powerful. She didn't know why he was asking, but she also knew he wouldn't be if there wasn't a very good reason.

"Okay," she said. "I won't go to New York."

He held her gaze, searching for any hint of a lie. Darcy stared back steadily, and after a moment he relaxed, his head falling back on the pillow and his arm drawing her to his side, clearly satisfied with whatever he had read in her expression.

She sighed, too weak to resist the temptation. "You're not going to tell me what that was about, are you?"

"No," he replied, the smirk back in his voice. Darcy rolled her eyes, trying not to melt when he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Now sleep, Miss Lewis. You are safe here."

"Safe with the God of Mischief," she snorted, but her eyes were already closing, limbs settling into a delicious heaviness. "Yeah right."

There was a pause, before Loki's voice whispered over her, warm and magic-scented, offering the promise of oblivion. "I promise no harm shall come to you," he said quietly. "You are safe with me, Darcy."

And the really funny thing about it, Darcy thought, as she allowed her mind to drift away into the dreamless sleep of post-pleasure bliss, was that she actually believed him.

.

* * *

A/N: I'm always nervous about writing these kind of scenes, and uber grateful for any feedback, if you feel so inclined. Thanks for reading! x


	4. Chapter 4

.

Loki had done a lot of things in his life to make him question the grip he held on his sanity. Lying, cheating, colluding with then killing his sociopathic Frost Giant sire, throwing himself willingly into a wormhole… The list of his actions that could raise eyebrows was fairly extensive.

But this had to be by far the most obvious case of madness in his life to date. It plumbed dangerous new depths, even for him.

Loki stared at the sleeping mortal woman currently sprawled beside him. Her face was flushed but peaceful, full lips tilted ever so slightly in an expression of smug contentment. She lay on her stomach, a sheet covering most of her body, one of her arms draped over his chest and her legs entwined with his. Loki's gaze travelled over the creamy expanse of her thigh where it had slipped free of the sheet, and he swallowed dryly.

Stupid, it was stupid. He should get up, at once. Put a spell on her so she would not wake, teleport them back to Jane Foster's house, and disappear. There was no time to delay; he could feel the Other's impatience pulsing angrily through the sceptre that connected them. The Chitauri were waiting. _He_ was waiting.

And yet… Loki lingered in the bed, lifting a hand to map the curve of Darcy's jaw. Her forehead creased, and she mumbled something, shifting restlessly against him. The sound transported Loki back to their lovemaking, and the way she had moaned his name with such abandon it turned his veins to fire and robbed him of all reason. He breathed deep, his other hand clenching in the bedsheet to stop himself from rolling her under him.

Loki was no shrinking violet. He'd had his share of lovers throughout his long life - he had, after all, spent centuries as second in line to the Asgardian throne, and while most of the female attention fell to Thor, there was usually enough left over to keep him occupied - but this chance meeting with a mortal girl was something else entirely. Loki wasn't used to being with someone who had nothing to gain from his favour. Asgardian women bedded him for power or influence, or even, sometimes, in the misguided hope of catching Thor's eye through sheer proximity (Loki tried to avoid that particular scenario, but it was something of an inevitability given the dynamics of their relationship).

But Darcy did not, as far as he could tell, want any of those things. She had given herself to him without any apparent concern for who or what he was. It was not power, or fame, or anything else he could offer that motivated her, but sheer desire that still, hours after the event, struck him dumb with disbelief.

She'd given herself to him not because he was a Prince of Asgard, or Thor's brother, or the wielder of an infinity stone, but because he was Loki. Just Loki.

_Obviously, I'm buttering you up for a repeat performance. _

Though he hadn't meant to, the arm that was still slung around Darcy's shoulders tightened, pressing her closer to his body. She curled around him like a cat, warm and supple, her breath tickling his chest when she exhaled. He watched her with half-lidded eyes, tracking the outline of her body, greedily memorising each curve and dip. Loki knew that the vision of her, flushed and quivering as she came apart in his arms, would remain with him forever; an unexpected boon he intended to lock away tight, to savour once his plans had come to fruition.

_His plans._ Loki frowned, thoughts turning reluctantly to the mission he had set out to accomplish. There would be bloodshed, undoubtedly, though he hoped the mortals would see the sense of his proposition relatively swiftly and avoid a full military engagement with the Chitauri. They had worshipped his father once, willingly enough. Surely they would do the same for him. After all, what was one God for another?

Across the room, Thanos' sceptre glowed malevolently. Loki sighed, and began to unlatch Darcy from his side. She grumbled at his movement, and clung tighter, one of her thighs riding up his leg, letting him feel the heat still pouring from her. Loki stiffened, a muscle in his jaw flexing as he battled the desire that surged through him. She was still naked, still gloriously open for him. A slight shift in angles was all it would take. One thrust, and he would be buried inside her again.

Loki couldn't help it. He groaned aloud.

Darcy's lids fluttered at the sound, and before he could move her eyes were cracking open to regard him in bleary confusion.

"Hey," she said, her voice hoarse. "You're still here."

He was annoyed at having woken her. Annoyed at himself for not having the good sense to disappear, and leave this mortal where she remained, in the past. "Not for long," he said, running a hand down the curve of her spine and feeling her shiver against him. "I must go."

"Wait." She reached out and pulled him close, head dipping to nuzzle his neck. The soft, innocent kisses she pressed to his throat heated his blood more effectively than the fires of Muspelheim, and despite his determination to rise, Loki found himself leaning in to her touch. His hand on her back slid lower, pulling her close. When his erection dug into her hip, Darcy made a sound of amusement.

"Good morning to you too, big guy." She lifted her head, shooting him a teasing look. "Guess you're ready for round two huh?"

_No. The Tesseract. Get up. _Fuck, who was he kidding? He may as well have been paralysed, so little resistance did he offer as Darcy crawled over his body, lavishing him with kisses, her mouth tracing a hot line from his neck to his chest. She teased each nipple before following the path of his abdomen, tickling the hair that formed a trail from his belly button to the juncture of his thighs.

He was still trying to process the direction she was headed when her hand snaked out to take the hard length of him in a firm grip. He groaned, teeth clenching as he fought to keep from bucking against her and disgracing himself by showing just how eager he was. His attempts at self-control were foiled when her hand vanished, replaced by a warm gust of breath, and then, before he could brace himself, the searing heat of her mouth closing around the head of his cock.

"_Fuck._" The guttural curse rang around the room. Loki ground his head into the pillow, closing his eyes as every bit of blood in his body rushed south, leaving him light-headed and dizzy. Darcy's tongue swirled around his tip before she took him into her mouth, humming a note of pleasure in the back of her throat that Loki swore would haunt him the rest of his long life. He choked, seizing her by the shoulders and hauling her up his body until they were face to face.

His voice was a hoarse growl. "Keep doing that, and round two won't last very long."

She chuckled, a carefree sound that made something in his chest tighten. Trying not to think too much about it, Loki ran his hands down the sides of her body until they rested on the swell of her hips. She shifted so she was straddling him, using her knees to keep herself above him and resisting when he tried to ease her on to his erection. Her eyes gleamed wickedly, as if she knew exactly what she was doing to him.

Oh yes, this mortal knew how to make mischief alright. It was no wonder he couldn't get enough of her.

"Tut tut," she drawled, splaying her palm on his chest to keep him in place. "We can't have that, can we?" She leaned close until her lips brushed his, pulling back when he made to deepen the kiss. Loki heard himself growl, and Darcy laughed again. "Easy there, tiger. I'm not going anywhere."

_No, but I am. _He sat up abruptly, throwing her off balance and holding her firmly to keep her from tipping off him. She squeaked, the sound changing to a gasp when he nudged her entrance. Their foreheads pressed together and Loki sought her mouth, groaning as her lips parted to accept his tongue at the same time as she sank lower in his arms, sheathing him inside of her in a single fluid motion. Darcy's thighs clenched and she moaned, rocking forward, fingernails digging crescent moons into his shoulder blades.

"Oh my god, _Loki_."

He would never, ever get tired of hearing her moan his name like that. Smirking against her mouth, Loki picked up the rhythm, arms still encircling her, pressing her tight to his body so he could feel every tremor that passed through her, every minute response to his touch. He listened to the cadence of her moans, experimenting with different rhythms and angles to see which suited her best, watching as her pupils dilated and her cheeks flushed in that delicious, astonished look of delight he was swiftly becoming addicted to.

He held her as she climaxed in his arms, feeling the tremors run through her body as her limbs tightened and she keened his name like a litany. His own release wasn't too far off, but Loki clenched his jaw in an effort to tamp it down. He didn't want this to be over yet. He wanted to make her come again and again until she could think of nothing but him and the pleasure he was giving her.

Gods, if this was madness he never wanted to be sane again.

He rolled them over, keeping his pace slow, letting her recover before he increased the tempo once more. To distract himself from the burning need to drive into her, Loki ducked his head to lavish some attention of her delectable breasts. It was then that he heard it.

The sound was faint, barely audible over the gasps and moans of their lovemaking. Nothing more than a high-pitched whine, like a mosquito flying on the other side of the room. But to Loki's finely tuned senses it was as loud as a death knell screeching out of the eternal void. And just as blood-curdling.

His head snapped up, and he stared at the sceptre resting innocently against the far wall. It was pulsating, electric blue light within it flashing back and forth like a roving spotlight. Now that he was paying attention, he could feel its mirror in his skull, an insistent, relentless tugging at the back of his head like a hook dug into the flesh of his mind. Searching for him. Calling for him. _Fuck. _

"What's wrong?" Darcy, still emerging from blissful oblivion, gazed up at him with wide, confused eyes. She must have noticed how stiff he'd gone in her arms, because her hands ran back and forth across his shoulders, a comforting gesture. "Loki?"

Instead of answering, Loki buried his face in her neck and thrust deeper, ending her attempts at inquiry as she gasped and arched her back in response. He took her hard and fast, losing himself in the feel of her, in the sweet scent of her body, her moans and her tight grip on his shoulders urging him on until her muscles clenched around him once more and her voice shook in his ear.

"Loki I'm co - I'm com - "

It was too much, this time, to resist. He groaned and gave in to his release, emptying himself inside her with a choked gasp he tried to smother into her hair. For one magnificent moment the ecstasy of it drove out all else, and he felt himself floating freely on a cloud of pleasure, sated and content, oblivious to everything except the warm, soft mortal he cradled in his arms.

Far too quickly, it was over. A sharp throb in his temple made him wince, and Loki blinked, reality crashing over him like a wave. Beneath the pain was an impatient wrench of the Other's power, attempting to drag him closer. Menace filled the room like noxious gas.

Disengaging from Darcy, Loki withdrew until he stood beside the bed. He allowed himself one final look at her beautiful naked form, then conjured their clothes with a swipe of his hand. Without preamble, he stalked over to retrieve his sceptre from the wall.

"I am returning you to Jane Foster's home."

She blinked up at him, confused and disoriented. "But - "

He didn't wait for her to finish. Placing a hand on her shoulder, he transported them both back to the room they had left earlier. The familiar surroundings materialised around them and Loki eased Darcy gently onto her own bed. She barely seemed to notice.

The real Jane Foster was downstairs, talking to someone on the phone. Loki caught the sound of his name and scowled. No doubt Thor's woman had already alerted SHIELD to his presence. It wouldn't be long before agents were crawling over this place, questioning Darcy, demanding to know what he had said to her, where he had taken her, what they had done. He frowned, reconsidering leaving her here to face their wrath. Perhaps he could take her away somewhere and -

His brain stopped him before the train of thought could complete itself. There was nowhere he could take her that was any safer than where she currently was. Besides, he would need all his energy focused in one direction if he was to succeed in obtaining the Tesseract. And he _had _to succeed. The alternative was unthinkable.

Darcy would be safe with Jane. Thor would never allow anything to happen to his mortal; as long as Darcy remained at her side, she would be protected.

Satisfied, Loki turned to face her. She was uncharacteristically silent, but her eyes had lost their glazed bewilderment. They fixed on him with a sharpness that made him feel oddly transparent.

"You're leaving," she said before he could speak. He nodded, grateful he didn't have to announce it. "Where to?"

He gave a slight shake of his head to indicate his inability to answer. "You should remain near to Jane Foster," he said instead. "It will be safest by her side, given my brother's penchant for heroic over-protectiveness. And remember, you gave me your word to avoid New York."

"Uh huh. Am I going to be seeing your face on the news any time soon?"

_Almost certainly. _Loki took a deep breath, adjusting his grip on the sceptre. "It has been a pleasure making your acquaintance, Darcy Lewis."

She flushed, her pink cheeks reminding him of how she had looked earlier. With an effort Loki pushed the image aside. "You too," she said, rubbing her palms against her thighs, before a gleam ignited in her eyes and her lips curved upwards. "I'm not going to lie. This whole night has been… kind of fucking amazing."

Loki allowed himself a small smirk. "Consider the sentiment resoundingly reciprocated." He regarded her fondly for a moment longer, then turned to go.

At the last second her voice pulled him back. "Am I ever going to see you again?"

He paused. The sight of her there before him - pale, flushed skin, dark hair tousled from lovemaking, bright blue eyes - was burnished in his mind's eye for all eternity. And no matter how hard his rational side might argue that it was impossible, Loki would be lying if he said he wasn't already plotting a way for their paths to cross once more.

Strangely, on this occasion the God of Lies felt no compulsion to lie at all. "I very much hope so."

Darcy blinked, looking taken aback, before a mischievous smile curled the edges of her mouth. "Oh, good," she said, folding her arms over her chest. "Well then I look forward to it."

"As do I." With a final nod, Loki turned away. "Farewell, Darcy."

"Bye." The smile on her face followed him as he vanished into the night. Loki tucked it away, deep in the locked room only he knew about inside his chest.

It was time.

* * *

.

A/N: Thanks for reading! This was going to be the end but after watching Endgame I've decided on a short little Epilogue to finish things up. It will have SPOILERS for Endgame though so if you haven't seen it yet, I suggest not clicking 'next' ;P


	5. Epilogue

A/N: Just another quick reminder that this Epilogue has SPOILERS for Endgame in it. It's not a huuuuge spoiler, but I would recommend holding off until you've seen the movie if that kind of thing bothers you.

Happy reading!

* * *

.

He'd failed.

It was the single thought running through Loki's mind, a repetitive chorus burrowing into his brain as they herded him down one sterile corridor after another, like an animal being led to slaughter. Thor stalked beside him, keeping a heavy grip on Loki's shoulder, as though distrustful that the chains they'd trussed him in would hold. His brother's rage was palpable; Loki had felt the muted strength of it the moment Thor landed on Stark Tower, and it suffocated him now as they stood side by side. Already, he was dreading the lecture that was to come once they returned to Asgard.

The others hovered like flies, hands twitching to their weapons any time he so much as blinked in their direction. It would have been amusing, had Loki not been so infuriated with himself for losing to such a motley collection of inferior beings. They should have been beneath him, yet here he was, trussed up like a turkey at their mercy.

He'd been so sure of victory, it hadn't even occurred to him to make a contingency plan for defeat. But somewhere along the line, he'd miscalculated. He hadn't counted on his brother's persistence, nor the brute strength of the Hulk turned against him. Loki could still hear the green monster, bellowing rage as it was forced to navigate a hundred flights of stairs. The sound sent ricochets of remembered agony through his body, and he scowled, muscles tightening with impotent rage.

They herded him into an elevator. Loki glanced around at his captors, sizing up his chances of making a run for it. With the obnoxious Captain off playing hero, and the beast exiled to the stairwell, only his brother and the man of iron were left to guard him. The rest of the mortals filling the building were no more a threat than a swarm of troublesome mosquitoes. If he could just get his hands on his sceptre...

But he couldn't. The sceptre was gone, carted off by fools who'd probably never be capable of even contemplating the true extent of its power. Loki swallowed a clod of bitterness in his throat. He'd come so close. So gloriously close to victory. Yet somehow, success had never felt further away. He clenched his chained fists until he felt his nails pierce skin, smirking humourlessly at the pale satisfaction of drawing blood.

They'd muzzled him, just to add to the humiliation. Loki chewed his tongue in silence as they travelled to the ground floor, wanting to lash out, to tell them they were all making a horrible mistake. If the Midgardians thought wrapping him in a straight jacket and hauling him back to Asgard was going to solve anything, they were as stupid as he'd always assumed them to be. As if Thanos would accept defeat so easily.

No. The mad Titan was many things, but a forgiver of failure was not one of them. This Loki had understood from the moment he fell into his clutches. If he did not succeed in his mission here on earth, his life was less than forfeit. No amount of protection, no army, no _Avengers, _would keep Thanos from exacting his revenge. And once he was finished with Loki, he would come for the Tesseract, and for the sceptre. For Earth.

Midgard would burn beneath the Titan's rage. Thanos' army would make the Chitauri look like friendly neighbourhood watchmen by the time he was done. Noone would be spared in his quest for victory.

_Darcy. _Loki groaned, furious with himself for allowing her name to penetrate his mind. He'd kept a fierce barricade around thoughts of that pesky woman since he left Jane Foster's house, for his own sanity as much as anything else. But the idea of her being anywhere near Thanos shattered every defensive wall he'd ever constructed. It made his blood run cold. It made him want to do something stupid, like fight tooth and nail to free himself of these chains, then find her and ferry her to safety.

Loki clenched his jaw, shaking his head to clear it of this madness. Desperate for a distraction, he swivelled to make evil eyes at the Shield Agent beside him, using the man's absurd display of terror as a diversion from his treacherous thoughts.

He had to get off this planet.

Finally, they reached the lobby. Loki hadn't been paying close attention, but his ears pricked when he heard the bionic man, Stark, mutter something to Thor about 'expecting trouble' and 'letting him talk.' Intrigued, he watched with interest as they approached a crowd of official looking agents, strategically placed to block their exit from the building.

One of the men stepped forward, steely gaze travelling over Thor and Stark before coming to rest on Loki. "May I ask you where you're going?"

"Er, lunch and then Asgard," Thor replied, giving the stranger a cold once-over. "I'm sorry, you are?"

The man was still looking at Loki. Loki cocked his head and stared back, unblinking, as Stark muttered the answer in Thor's ear. "Alexander Pierce. This is the man who bought the folks behind Nick Fury."

"My friends call me Mr Secretary," added the man, still in that curt, business-like manner. "I'm going to have to ask you to turn that prisoner over to me."

Loki stiffened, hoping to convey with his eyes what a bad idea that would be for everyone involved. Asgard, he could just about stomach. Remaining on Midgard to be paraded around their pathetic laboratories and treated like an escaped science experiment? He'd blow up New York again before he let that happen.

Thankfully, Thor seemed to share a similar sentiment. Loki rolled his eyes as his brother rabbited on about returning him to Asgard to face Odin's justice. He could well imagine what the Allfather would have to say about his activities here on earth. Nevermind that Odin himself had had no qualms exerting dominion over the mortals in centuries gone by, revelling in their worship and drawing strength from their eternal devotion. Nevermind that even _Thor_ had seen nothing wrong with bedding a mortal woman and then -

A giggle echoed in his head, followed by a very familiar voice.

_I'm sorry. It's just - you're a _God, _for god's sake. And you're standing in the kitchen talking about fucking and bedding and - _

Loki ground his teeth and banished the sound of her voice from his thoughts. The last thing he needed right now was a reminder of what followed that comment, not when he was trying to concentrate. As if his weakness hadn't been made clear enough already.

With a concerted effort, he dragged himself back to the present. It took a moment for him to realise some kind of scuffle had broken out while he was lost in reminiscence.

"Get your hands off me!" snapped Stark, as the man called Alexander Pierce made a lunge for the briefcase. There was a brief, pitiful scrabble, before a rush of bodies closed in around them, thickening the already tense atmosphere. Loki edged forward, eyeing the Tesseract hungrily while his brother was distracted.

"Give me the case!" snapped the Secretary, no longer calm and collected, but seething with unbridled lust for power. Loki could recognise the smell of it from a mile away. His lip curled.

The situation was threatening to escalate to weapons when Stark gasped, his entire body going abruptly rigid and his arm seizing Pierce in a death grip. He sagged to his knees, then toppled sideways and crumpled to the ground, dragging the Secretary with him. The case fell from his hand and hit the floor, but nobody seemed to care or notice. All attention was fixed on the convulsing man. Including his brother's.

Loki held his breath. He took half a step, eyes pinned to the briefcase, weighing his chances of being able to summon it closer without anyone noticing. Before he could find a way around his chains, the case suddenly span across the floor, as if someone had kicked it forcefully away from the crowd. Only, nobody had. Thor was still on his knees before Stark, trying desperately to help him, and the rest of the agents huddled around the pair, some with their hands on their weapons, others radioing urgently for medics.

Nobody seemed to notice that the most important power source in the entire universe had gone skidding across the marble floor like an oversized hockey puck.

A rush of intuitive understanding swept through Loki as he watched the scene unfold. Something was happening. Something unplanned, unanticipated, and potentially catastrophic.

Something that might help him escape.

He turned in time to see a dark-clothed Shield agent snatch the case from the floor. Loki growled as the man hurried off, frustration pooling at his fingertips and making the chains around his wrists crack to breaking point. He had just enough time to contemplate the bitter irony of watching the Tesseract vanish from sight a second time when the door to the stairwell exploded outwards and a furious Hulk burst through, knocking the Shield agent off his feet and sending the briefcase flying. It hit the floor with a crack, the force of the impact snapping the lid open. Loki watched, stunned, as the Tesseract jolted loose and slid across the polished marble toward him.

He didn't stop to think. His boot came out instinctively to stop the cube's path, and he stared down at it in disbelief. There it was. The Tesseract, glowing innocently, just resting there within his reach.

_Within reach. _

Loki blinked. He glanced around, checking briefly to make sure it wasn't some kind of trap. Then, before he could second-guess himself, he bent down and snatched it up with both hands.

Nobody noticed. Stark was still writhing on the floor, none of the Agents were looking at him, and his brother seemed to have completely forgotten his existence. It was an impossibly fortunate boon. Luck rarely smiled on him in such a way, but Loki wasn't about to look this gift horse in the mouth.

He closed his eyes, letting the power of the Tesseract ripple through him. Possibilities expanded in his chest like air. He could go anywhere. Anywhere at all. With this power at his fingertips, he could return to Asgard, triumphant rather than in chains. He could travel to the furthermost reaches of the universe, where noone would know him. He could disappear and start over. He could take the Tesseract to Thanos, and earn the Titan's respect. Who knew what kind of opportunities _that _would unlock.

All this flitted through his mind in an instant. And yet… Loki knew what he _should_ do, but it was not to any of these choices that his thoughts turned. Not to Asgard, where the Tesseract would at least be nominally safe. Not to somewhere he could run to, and disappear. Not to power or fame or fortune.

No, as soon as that glowing cube of light tapped the toe of his boot, there was one thing and one thing only on Loki's mind.

With a smirk, he channelled the power of the Tesseract and disappeared into the aether.

He had a visit to make.

.

* * *

.

Darcy Lewis was chopping carrots in her best friend's kitchen when the God of Mischief materialised before her. A glowing blue cube rested between his chained hands, his mouth was muzzled by some kind of metal guard, and an expression of pure mischief danced in his green eyes as he regarded her.

This time, she didn't even want to scream.

.

* * *

A/N: Ta da! So, I'm totally over the moon with this because okay, it's short and not really a complete story arc BUT I STILL FINISHED IT, which is a big deal for me as readers of my other fanfics well know (*cough* sorrrrry guys I'm getting to a RaR update I promise). And also I rarely write out-and-out smut so that was a nice change of pace and a good chance to try something different so, yah.

I hope, if anyone makes it this far, that they enjoyed my little offering to this world of the MCU and its untapped Darcy/Loki potential. Please consider letting me know. I adore any and all feedback and am constantly striving to improve my writing. Plus it just about makes my day hearing that others have found enjoyment in my work. That's all a humble writer could ever ask for, in my opinion.

Peace and love, ~A


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